Getting Off The Plane
by KateToast
Summary: What happened between Rachel boarding the plane and showing up at Ross's apartment in The Last One? One-shot.


**Disclaimer**: I don't own Friends.

**A/N**: See, I know I should be working on 'TOW Everything's Changed', but, uh, I did this instead. I was at my grandparent's, thinking about what might have happened between Rachel boarding the plane, and showing up at the apartment.

Dialogue that seems familiar to you, well, is. The beginning part and last part are taken from 'The Last One'.

**XXX**

**GETTING OFF THE PLANE**

Rachel shook her head. "They're waiting for me, Ross. I can't do this right now, I'm sorry." She glanced into his honest face, willing herself to keep it together. "I'm sorry," she repeated, trying to retreat.

Ross looked as if his world were crashing down around him, but still said one last pleading word to convince her to stay: her name. "Rachel." He said it in only a way Ross Gellar could; a way that could almost always make her do what he asked.

Almost.

"I'm so sorry," she said a final time, showing her ticket to the waiting flight attendant.

Once she turned away, pulling along her small rolling suitcase, she let the tears fall. Ross loved her. And he knew she loved him. And though she never agreed with his statement out loud, Rachel knew it was true. How could it not be? He was everything a girl could want, and more. He was everything _she_ wanted, and more.

_I just can't deal with it right now_, she justified in her head as she made her way through the tunnel that led to the airplane that would be taking her to Paris. A whole country away. A whole country between her and the man she always thought she'd spend the rest of her life with.

Ross had just laid his heart on the line, and she had rejected him. Just like that. A simple 'I'm sorry' from her end, and that was it. She was closing the novel that was Ross and Rachel.

Did she really want to?

Rachel began a mantra in her head: _I just can't deal with it right now_. She repeated it as she found her seat. As she put her luggage in the above compartment. As she got her bag down from the compartment and took out her cell phone. As she sat down in her seat slowly. As she pressed the buttons shakily that would direct her to Ross. As the phone rang.

She stopped repeating the sentence when his answering machine picked up. It beeped, and suddenly, Rachel felt at a loss for words.

"Ross, hi. It's me," Rachel began slowly. She took a breath. "I just got back on the plane, and I just feel awful. That is so not how I wanted things to end with us." She felt herself beginning to lose her collectiveness. "It's just that I, wasn't expecting to see you, and all of a sudden you're there and saying these things...and..." Her heart had definitely just won out in the internal battle against her head that had been going on inside of her as she said, "And now I'm just sitting here and thinking of all the stuff I should have said, and I didn't. I mean, I didn't even get to tell you that I love you too." The tears were starting to fall, but Rachel didn't care. She needed to say this, even if it was to Ross's answering machine. "Because of course I do."

And that was the moment Rachel realized she was making the biggest mistake of her life by being on that plane. Was she willing to lose everything with Ross for some stupid job in Paris?

"I love you. I love you." It was beginning to dawn on her how crazy it was for her to be telling his machine this, when she should be doing it in person. "I love you," she repeated. "What am I doing?" she asked no one in particular.

She noticed that a few of the people around her were looking at her; listening to her declare her love to Ross over the phone. "I love you! Oh, I've gotta see you. I've gotta get off this plane."

A stewardess walked by, and Rachel held up her free hand, still holding the phone with the other. The woman ignored her, so Rachel stood. "Excuse me?"

"Miss, please sit down," the woman asked, sounding annoyed. Rachel could've cared less at this moment.

She started waving her arms, forgetting that the phone was still on. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, but I need to get off the plane, okay? I need to tell someone that I love them," she said seriously.

"Miss, I can't let you off the plane," the woman replied. "I'm afraid you are gonna have to take a seat."

Rachel couldn't believe this. Was this stewardess so unfeeling that she didn't care? "Oh, please, miss, you don't understand!" And she really, really didn't, which was making Rachel all the more aggravated.

The woman just kept standing there, staring at her. "Oh, come on, miss, isn't there any way that you can just let me off the plane?!"

"We're about to leave, so I suggest you sit and buckle up." The stewardess shook her head.

The man who was occupying the seat beside Rachel's stood. "Why won't you let her off the plane?"

Rachel glanced at him and sent him an appreciative nod. Another woman stood, two rows back. "Yeah, let her off! She's gotta tell this guy she loves him!"

Others began calling out to let her off the plane. The stewardess finally let out a groan of defeat. "Fine, but I hope you realize you're making us later to leave than we already are."

At this point, Rachel would've gladly hugged the irate woman. She thanked the other passengers, finally turned off her cell phone, grabbed her bag, and followed the stewardess, who had just come back from telling the pilot to hold off on leaving.

The other woman gave Rachel one last dirty look as they entered the airport, then shut the door. Rachel looked around, thinking that maybe Ross and Phoebe were still there.

She didn't see them, and made a quick decision to catch a cab back to the apartment, where she guessed Ross had gone.

As Rachel made her way through the bustling crowds of people, she couldn't believe how close she had come to permanently screwing up her life. Now, she couldn't even understand why she had even considered going to Paris, especially after Ross had confessed his love to her. How could she have almost left all the people she loved for a job?

Catching a cab was difficult, but as soon as one stopped in front of her, Rachel barreled into it and hurriedly gave Ross's address to the kind-looking older man who was driving. She was losing precious moments with every second, and it took an additional hour to get back to the city.

"You seem to be in a rush," the cabbie commented as Rachel jiggled her leg from anticipation.

"I've, uh, got something important I have to do," she supplied.

The older man nodded. He glanced back at her, then turned and looked out at the road. "You just fly in?"

Rachel wasn't sure she felt like talking, but decided she might as well make conversation. Otherwise, she'd be thinking about Ross. "No, actually, I uh, never left. I was supposed to fly to Paris."

"Ah." He waited a beat. "I'm Phil, by the way. I usually tell my passengers that when they get in."

"Alright," Rachel nodded.

They sat in silence again, _so much for a distraction_, she thought, and finally Rachel let her mind wander. What was she going to say to Ross? What if he never heard her message? Her thoughts drifted back to their first anniversary all those years ago, and how that ended up. She didn't want a repeat of that.

She comforted herself with the fact that they were older and more mature now. Ross wouldn't do something stupid like that. If he wasn't at his apartment, then he would be helping Monica and Chandler finish packing.

Phil shifted. "If you don't mind me askin', is this important thing you gotta do a life or death situation?"

He seemed genuine, and Rachel figured, _what the hell_. "Kind of. I'm telling a guy I love him."

"Lucky man, to have a woman miss her flight to Paris for him." Phil kept his eyes on traffic.

"Well, he's... worth it." She took a breath, then decided to continue. "We've known each other since we were kids, because I was best friends with his younger sister. Actually, we're still best friends. We were roommates for over six years, and her brother had a crush on me since high school."

Rachel didn't know why she was giving this history to her cab driver, but he nodded and acknowledged her in all the right spots.

"And about eight years ago, me and Ross- he's the guy- got together. And you know, I thought we had a real future together. I thought we were going to get married, I really did, but he got jealous of this guy I worked with, and we argued, and... things ended badly between us." She didn't want to divulge _that_ far into their history. For some reason though, telling it was making her feel less nervous about seeing Ross. And Phil seemed like a nice guy.

"So you guys have been on bad terms for eight years?" Phil asked kindly.

Sighing softly, Rachel shook her head, even though Phil couldn't see her. "No, actually, we kind of got past our issues, and we were friends for a long time. But then we- my other four friends, we all have hung out together for years- went to Vegas, and Ross and I got drunk, and then married."

Phil turned slightly, and Rachel could see his look of surprise when they drove near a streetlight. "Married. Wow."

Rachel nodded, thinking back to the events of her short-lived marriage to Ross Gellar. "Yeah, but we got divorced. We were okay after that, y'know, things were good. Then, well, we had a baby together-"

"After the divorce?"

"Uh, a few years after, actually. We had a girl, she's two," Rachel said as she smiled at the thought of her beautiful daughter. The first thing she would do tomorrow was pick up Emma from her mother's.

"That's nice. So now you're going to tell him you love him?"

For an older man (_he looks a little over sixty_, Rachel concluded) who was a cab driver, Phil sure did listen well. "Yes. He told me before I boarded the plane, but I was confused. I get it now, though. I guess I've always loved him, but sometimes I just didn't notice it. "

"Well, good that you see it now."

The two sat again in a more comfortable silence, until Rachel said, "If you don't mind me asking, why are you a cab driver?"

Phil seemed to think about this. "Well, I used to be a teacher, but I retired from that. My wife wanted me to do somethin' useful with myself, so I decided, I'm a good driver, might as well make money for it."

Rachel hoped she wasn't getting too personal, but hey, she had just given him the cliff notes version of her bumpy relationship with Ross. "How long have you been married?"

"Thirty years." Phil smiled slightly. "We met in college, and had the same friends, so we saw a lot of each other. Both of us were too stubborn to ask the other out though, until finally my best friend did it for us." He chuckled to himself, and Rachel kept listening. "We drive each other _crazy_, but that's what's always made us interestin'. Dated for five years before I popped the question. I was afraid she'd reject me after everything we'd gone through."

"Thirty years," Rachel repeated, considering it.

"Yup. We tried datin' other people a few times, but no, I always knew she was the one for me."

And with those words, Rachel finally noticed that they were back in the city. She could see the apartment building from her spot in the cab.

As they pulled over to the curb and Rachel pulled out her wallet to pay Phil, he waved her off. "Keep the money, I suggest you get up there and tell this Ross how you're feelin'."

Rachel grinned at him. "Thanks, Phil. For listening."

"Well, thank _you_ for telling me the most interesting romantic story I've heard that's actually real." Phil sent her a smile, nodded his head after she had shut the door, and drove off.

Turning to face the building, Rachel only took a second to breathe, then rushed inside. The elevator was too slow for her, and when she got halfway up the steps, her stupid rolling bag fell back down, and she had to chase after it.

Finally, she reached Ross's hallway. The door was ajar and when she approached, she heard herself being cut off on the answering machine, and then Ross yelling at the device.

"Did she get off the plane?! Did she get off the plane?!"

With those words, everything of the past that Rachel had been dwelling on was forgotten, and she only saw the future; the bright future filled with everything she'd wanted since she ran away from her wedding to Barry.

She opened his door slowly, and said through tears of happiness and possibility, "I got off the plane."

**XXX**

_End._


End file.
